


The Waiting Room

by SavvyRae



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Humor, Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavvyRae/pseuds/SavvyRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Hannibal Lector's past "acquaintances" meet up in the afterlife and look back at the mess that got them there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly my first attempt at writing fan fiction, and it doesn't really go anywhere. I hope you enjoy it.  
> This was written after the season 2 finale, and I was under the assumption that Chilton is dead -shrug-

Chilton looked down, licked his thumb and tried to remove a droplet of blood that tarnished the horrid orange jumpsuit he unfortunately seemed to have perished in. As he did so, another ghastly drop fell from the wound in his cheek. He had yet to feel the back of his head, afraid of the tactile sensations he would find there. Death was peaceful, unexpectedly so. He was surrounded by mid-tone grey, an endless expanse of nothing. It reminded him of the movie The Matrix, his nephew had forced him to watch it with him years prior. That reminded him. What was his dear sister going to say about this? It left a bitter taste in his mouth to think she would view him as a serial murderer.

He began to walk, he wasn’t sure exactly where. Chilton didn’t think it would really matter at this point. Eventually a circle of people came into his line of sight. He couldn’t quite make them out from this distance, but he could make out 5 figures. They were all sitting in black metal fold out chairs. This appeared to Frederick Chilton as a support group meeting. A morbid one at that. As he got closer he noticed that an empty chair was set, presumably for himself. He sat himself down, crossed his leg over the other and brushed himself off before glancing around this motley crew. There were two girls of similar height and build, they even had the same hair and eye color. Their great difference was that one of the girls was completely naked, and antler points had pierced the flesh of her stomach. The other wore sensible clothing and a scarf that did nothing to hide the gash that painted her neck, her hair didn’t hide the fact that she was missing an ear. Chilton couldn’t remember one of the girls names, the naked one. She had been in the news a months before and he wondered idly if his memory lapse had anything to do with the bullet that had forced its way through his skull. He could however, recognize Abbigail Hobbs. Next to them was a burnt husk of a person, whom he assumed was that unfortunate girl Georgia Madchen. Dr. Donald Sutcliffe mouth gaping unnaturally, his tongue lolled about grotesquely. Chilton could easily identify this man as his sullied lab coat bore a name tag. And finally he his eyes fell upon Beverly Katz… well half of Agent Katz at least.

“Good… day to you all” Chilton managed as cordially as he could manage.

“I can’t exactly say it is a pleasure Dr. Chilton. You’ve caught us at a lull it seems. There are usually a lot more people at these ‘meetings’ we’ve been having.Of course I guess you could call all of us regulars” Agent Kats stood up and Chilton couldn’t help but be incredibly surprised at this feat, however he stifled this feeling. He was **dead** , he supposed he would have to get used the unusual.

“Dr. Chilton, this is Cassie Boyle, Abbigail Hobbes, Georgia Madchen,” Georgia gave a little wave and Chilton forced a polite smile in return, “and Dr. Sutcliffe. Everyone this is Dr. Frederick Chilton.” Beverly sat down. “We were talking about our favorite cannibal”

Dr. Sutcliffe made a string of unidentifiable noises from his throat. He was looking at Chilton with pleading eyes. “Forgive me, what?”

“Oh he’s been saying that since I got here,” piped Abigail.

“Does anyone know what he’s **saying**?” Chilton ran his stray hand through his hair absentmindedly. He accidentally probed into the cavern that replaced the back of his head. He gagged slightly and wiped the mess onto the leg of his pants.

Georgia chimed in, her voice coming from the area her mouth would have been, “ We think he’s been saying something like, ‘ _It fucking rhymes_ ’.”


End file.
